


Higan: Spring Equinox

by Jougetsu



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 04:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6314500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/pseuds/Jougetsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watanuki was one of those particular folk who never needed a calendar. The various spirits, monsters, and supernatural denizens that gathered around him made sure of that. No holiday, minor festival, anniversary, birth day, death day, or even weekday went by without a spirit marking the date. Sometimes it was all very innocent, a shy ghost sidled up and hoped to be wished a happy birthday, or a childish supernatural reminded him of it being an obscure holiday and thus was entitled to a treat. Other times it was distressing, vengeful spirits recalling various wrongs and needing an outlet for their anger. </p>
<p>The vernal equinoctial week fell somewhere in the middle of the spectrum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Higan: Spring Equinox

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in fuzzy alternate universe where both Yuuko and the shop disappeared (coincidentally around the time Watanuki would have graduated high school) and he ends up living with the Doumeki family. Himawari, Kohane, and Doumeki are all still very much part of his life, no tragic loner Watanuki here. 
> 
> I haven't written any DouWata fic since 2010-ish (on ye olde FF.net) so I apologize for being rusty and probably out of sync with fandom tastes. 
> 
> Let me know if you'd like to see a continuation or something.

Watanuki was one of those particular folk who never needed a calendar. The various spirits, monsters, and supernatural denizens that gathered around him made sure of that. No holiday, minor festival, anniversary, birth day, death day, or even weekday went by without a spirit marking the date. Sometimes it was all very innocent, a shy ghost sidled up and hoped to be wished a happy birthday, or a childish supernatural reminded him of it being an obscure holiday and thus was entitled to a treat. Other times it was distressing, vengeful spirits recalling various wrongs and needing an outlet for their anger. 

The vernal equinoctial week fell somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. 

Incense in the air and prayers more abundant it was a week of ancestors returning home for a brief visit. Watanuki would have probably enjoyed it if he could actually meet his own ancestors, but their names and graves were unknown to him. When he lived alone his apartment didn't even have a god-shelf for offerings. 

Not that he lived alone any more. 

“Cheer up, it's a quiet week for you,” Haruka grinned at him from the kitchen table. 

“Quiet? Are you kidding me? Doumeki's out from dawn to midnight doing blessings and rites, his father is constantly conducting services, we can barely keep up with everyone clamoring for charms, and I've been cooking my fingers off making sure everyone's fed.” Watanuki snapped at the visiting ghost. “And I don't just mean the living. How many dumplings do you guys need anyway?” 

“Making such a visit takes up more energy than you'd think,” said Haruka. “This is your first spring at the temple. Do you dislike it that much?” 

Watanuki huffed and refused to answer, scowling at his odd mentor. His pride wouldn't admit that he enjoyed being useful to Doumeki's family and that he felt better at the temple than anywhere else, including Yuuko's shop. The temple protections allowed only friendly deities and spirits so he could wander the grounds at any time without fear of danger even when Doumeki was out. 

Which was the oddest thing about this new arrangement. He thought living with Doumeki's family would mean seeing Doumeki all the time. Instead he hardly ever saw Doumeki. True it'd only been a few weeks, but if Watanuki didn't know any better he'd say Doumeki was avoiding him. 

“Kimihiro, please take a break,” Mayumi came in with arms full of groceries. On noticing the one chair pulled outward she asked, “Oh my, is my father-in-law visiting at the moment? Please give him my warmest welcome.” 

“Y-yes, he is here,” Watanuki blushed. Despite his time with Yuuko it was hard getting used to the idea that other people could take his abilities in stride. Though he shouldn't have been too surprised that Douemki's parents would be so accepting. “I don't need a break, Auntie besides I want to get the pickles done before dinner.” 

Mayumi Doumeki was “Auntie” and Nichika Doumeki was “Uncle” by their loving insistence. Doumeki brought him home to them after Yuuko left and the shop disappeared. If they were surprised by their son bringing a virtual stranger to live with them they didn't show it. If anything Watanuki was treated like another son (or as he could hear Yuuko's sly innuendo, like a son-in-law) from the first. 

“You spoil Shizuka,” Mayumi chuckled as she put away the food. “Making all his favorites and packing him lunches for his working days.” 

“A bride always tries their hardest in the honeymoon phase,” was Haruka's contribution to the conversation. 

“He's been working really hard this week!” said Watanuki. “He can hardly keep his strength up as is.” 

“I know he appreciates all your hard work, but he'd be quite upset if you made yourself sick by working too hard,” she said in a tone so soft and motherly it made Watanuki want to cry for the years of family he never had. 

“I can't help him in any other way.” 

Mayumi shook her head, "You are a greater help than you know. Do give yourself some credit." She patted him on the shoulder before heading for the other side of the house. "I'm going to go check on the laundry for a while. Do try to take a break." 

“Ohhhh little bride cooking away,” Haruka warbled robustly. “Pale hands shaping dumplings, how can anyone deny your moon-faced beauty?” 

“Please stop singing, sir,” winced Watanuki fighting back a blush. It was bad enough he looked like a bride in his new apron and kimono cooking away in the Doumeki household kitchen; he certainly didn't need Haruka to sing about it to every spirit in the area. 

“I can't wait to gobble up dumplings! Will you put out an extra one for me? Please oh please?” a chubby little cub of a tanuki appeared at his side and tugged at the hem of his apron. The cub liked to pop in and out of the Doumeki kitchen was Watanuki was cooking in hopes of treats and Watanuki had yet to turn him away.

“Yes, yes, everyone will get some if they're good and patient and don't sing about me being a bride,” Watanuki glared at Haruka to punctuate the statement. 

“I can't help being so pleased,” said Haruka. “My darling grandson has at last brought home a -” 

“Don't say it!” 

“Beloved person,” he continued. “No longer shall either of you pine for completion, for lack of love, for lack of understanding!” 

“See how many dumplings get put on the altar for you with that attitude,” Watanuki brandished a wooden spoon at the spirit's direction. “Here, Umetarou, you can have one early because you've been good.” He placed the largest cooled rice dumpling on a plate for the little tanuki who squeaked with glee. 

“Thank you, Sir Watanuki!” Umetarou said between sticky mouthfuls of dumpling. “You're the bestest nicest smartest most talented human ever!” 

Flattery it was, but Watanuki appreciated it anyway and picked up the tanuki into his arms with a smile. “And you're a very clever tanuki,” he said in a warm voice. 

In response to such affection Umetarou shapeshifted into a little human child with inky black hair and eyes that were both amber brown and deep blue. “Look, look Sir Watanuki! Look at meeee! Now I'm your baby!” 

There was nothing to do but smile and laugh along with the tanuki after all it was well meant. It would've been over and forgotten if Doumeki hadn't come in at that moment. 

Two sharp intakes of breath made Watanuki turn to see Haruka and Shizuka staring at him. 

“Oh don't look at me like that. Haruka, you have no excuse you know little Umetarou likes to shapeshift,” the beleaguered medium sighed and shifted the tanuki-as-a-child on his hip. “Doumeki this is Umetarou. He's a tanuki whose clan moved into the area a while ago. Not sure if you two have met. He likes to keep me company when I'm cooking.” 

Doumeki had the grace to clear his throat and look a smidgen embarrassed at being called out. “I, uh, nice to meet you Umetarou.” 

Haruka recovered himself to chuckle at the situation. “It's a good thing that wish shop is closed, isn't it Shizuka?” 

It never occurred to Watanuki that this was something to wish for. Of course he was aware of Doumeki's very intense, very intimate feelings for him, but they weren't lovers. Not yet maybe not ever. They'd never kissed and yet Watanuki knew that their ties went deeper than most married couples. 

“I just came in to grab a little lunch. I didn't mean to interrupt you.” Wonder of wonders Doumeki was blushing! 

“The bento box with the indigo cloth is yours,” Watanuki placed Umetarou, still wriggling as he nibbled on treats, on the counter. “I also filled a small thermos with barley tea for you.” 

“Thank you,” said Doumeki in a queer hushed borderline husky manner that Watanuki thought rather suited him. “I mean it. You didn't have to do any of this.” 

“I'm not going to live at the temple and not pull my weight. The spring equinoctial week is busy and this is all I'm able to do-” His explanation was cut short by Doumeki placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Thank you for everything.” 

“You don't need to thank me,” answered Watanuki quietly. “Eat up, get your strength back, and do what you need to do. You're doing important work.” 

He could practically feel the tension vibrating off Doumeki though its cause was a mystery. 

“I'll be home late. Don't wait up, okay?” 

Now it was Watanuki's turn to blush because wasn't that the kind of thing spouses said to each other? What should he say in response? In all likelihood he would stay up because despite Doumeki's immense power there were strong malevolent spirits to worry about and the two of them were a little too well known in supernatural circles. Despite having an array of nonhuman friends they also had nonhuman enemies. 

“Don't forget the talisman Kohane made for you,” was all Watanuki managed to get out. Stay safe. Don't take unnecessary risks. Come back to me. Those were all too heavy in his mouth. 

Doumeki squeezed his shoulder, took his lunch and left without another word. 

“Ooooh, the words unspoken between lovers might be more powerful than the ones they say,” Haruka sang with a renewed smirk. “See the young man's flank quiver like a stallion's-”

The impromptu song was met with a bean filled dumpling thrown at Haruka's head. 

“Sir Watanuki, are you and Sir Doumeki lovers?” Umetarou shifted back into his usual form. “And what's 'quiver'?” 

“Doumeki and I are friends,” Watanuki steadfastly ignored Haruka's waggling eyebrows. “The word 'quiver' means to tremble slightly.” 

Umetarou nodded pensively and hopped over to Haruka to be cuddled as Watanuki's hands were full with cooking. With any luck that would deter any lusty musings on Haruka's part about his grandson and favorite medium. 

Emphasis on the bit about on Haruka's part because Watanuki's mind was conjuring all sorts of unhelpful suggestions. Suggestions like maybe he should stay up and draw a bath for Doumeki or wait in his futon in a sleeping kimono and nothing else. After all the March nights were cold and windy and conserving body heat was traditional. Not that Watanuki was ready to be anyone's lover or so he thought, but the idea of laying next to Doumeki without one of them being injured was enticing. 

Leaving spiritual powers aside Watanuki just felt safe with him. Years of missions for Yuuko and Doumeki was with him every time even though there was nothing in it for Doumeki but danger. He knew that Doumeki cared for him, cherished him even though Watanuki couldn't understand why. 

These thoughts chased themselves in his head until evening. Dinner was a light-hearted affair with Doumeki's parents, Nichika and Mayumi, praising his cooking and thanking him for relaying their words to Haruka during this season. 

“I'm not doing much,” Watanuki protested. “He can hear you just fine. I'm just telling you what he's saying in return.” 

“And never a cuter medium has graced this house,” Haruka winked at him. 

“Oh my, you're blushing,” Mayumi laughed and waggled a finger at the empty chair next to Watanuki. “Are you making flirtatious remarks again, Father-in-law? Don't harass the poor boy so!” 

“He does uh sometimes say things,” said Watanuki. “It's harmless though and he is happy to be visiting this spring.” 

Nichika adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly, “I know my father can be a handful. He always had a sly sense of humor even in life so it's not surprising he's retained it. Thank you for putting up with it while he visits. I know it can't be easy and you've already done so much for our family.” 

“Me? I haven't done anything other than cook a little!” Watanuki felt his face flame up. “You've let me stay here for the last few weeks and treated me like family.” 

“We certainly think of you as practically family,” Mayumi said patting his hand. “We know that you've been the dearest friend of our Shizuka for several years now and he's not one to make friends easily.” 

“Not only have you been cooking for us, but you've fed our temple visitors both human and supernatural with the grace of a saint,” Nichika added. “But we'd love to have you here even if you didn't do any of that. We've always wanted to have more family living here and just being here you're fulfilling that wish.” 

The word wish had Watanuki's stomach flip-flopping. 

“You make our Shizuka so bright and happy,” Mayumi seemed determined to keep his blush going. “We can't thank you enough for that.”

“Happy in so many ways,” Haruka chirped and Watanuki was grateful that the rest of the family couldn't hear the inappropriate old man. Honestly! 

To an outsider a sad Doumeki and a happy Doumeki probably didn't seem different, but Watanuki was realizing that he very much knew the difference now. Knew the tells and signs without even trying these days. 

Yuuko would've had a classy vague remark for his little epiphany. Something about the soul unfolding within its cocoon or whatever. 

“He's a good friend,” Watanuki let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He couldn't just say that Doumeki made him happy in so many ways too: that seeing Doumeki enjoy his cooking warmed him down to his toes, that Doumeki shielding him from danger made his heart pound wildly and joyously, that Doumeki just being by his side comforted him to a surprising degree.

They toasted to friendship and had a family dinner that made Watanuki feel like he was glowing of all things. It ended with offerings and prayers on the family altar, Haruka insisting on his share of the libations from dinner. 

The midnight hour came and Doumeki had not yet returned. Despite his earlier imaginings Watanuki didn't slip into the other man's bed. A silly hormonal fantasy had no place in reality. Instead he put a hot water bottle at the foot of Doumeki's futon beneath the duvet and laid out his sleeping kimono. 

In the dark of the bedroom the moonlit poured in brilliantly from small high window. It all looked rather like a poem and he couldn't help but recall one they had reviewed last semester before graduating. 

“I hate the cold unfriendly moon,  
That shines at early morn;  
And nothing seems so sad and grey,  
When I am left forlorn,  
As day's returning dawn.”

“What did the poor moon ever to do injure you?” Haruka appeared in the doorway apparently content to view the tableau before him. 

“I didn't write it,” Watanuki rolled his eyes. Leave it to Haruka to show up the one time he decided to recite a poem. 

“Try to think of it as the moon watching over him for you,” Haruka's voice went soft around the edges and lost all traces of teasing. “Shall I tell you a secret? More than once Shizuka has watched the moon with the same expression.”

Watanuki refused to think about that because he was already a tangled mess inside enough for one night. “Good night, Haruka,” he rose and left for his own bedroom next door. 

About an hour later his mind cleared enough for sleep and it probably wasn't a coincidence that he only relaxed when he heard Doumeki's soft footsteps. 

Originally Watanuki had planned to get up before Doumeki left to make him breakfast the next morning, but when the sunshine crossed his eyes he was gone again. Under his glasses was a folded note. In Doumeki's elegant writing were the words, 'Thank you for taking care of me every day.' 

There had been times when Himawari smiled at him and Watanuki thought he was going to melt on the spot. There had been times when Kohane hugged him tightly trusting him to keep her safe like the brother she never had and his heart swelled with emotion. None of those held a candle to what he was feeling now with that note in hand. 

A queer warmth began at the base of his spine and washed over Watanuki in soft waves. Even as his heart beat intensified he felt centered and calm, anchored even. If he closed his eyes he could picture Doumeki here with him, but now was not the time for longings. Not with a full day of work ahead of him and a chirpy ghost at his elbows. 

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Haruka sitting quietly in the corner of his room. Thankfully the spirit had no witty remarks or sly jokes at the moment. Soon he regained his composure and left the warm cocoon of blankets to open the cedar chest on the far side of the room. The Doumeki family had a wealth of traditional style clothing and the day after he moved in he was graced with a small wardrobe of kimono, hakama, jinbei, and samue. Nichika and Mayumi also gave him what he considered far too much money to buy his own Western style clothing that same week, but Watanuki couldn't bear to spend more than what was strictly necessary and as a result ended up wearing the traditional clothes around the temple. 

“What is on the agenda for the new bride today?” Haruka came over to investigate Watanuki's fashion choices. 

“Serving refreshments to visitors and some errands,” he replied holding up various kimono for Haruka to approve of. While spending time with Yuuko and friends had given him a better eye for appropriate combinations of Japanese clothing he was by no means an expert or confident in his choices. For all his innuendos Haruka wouldn't steer him astray in matters sartorial even if he was a little too keen on loincloths. 

“Oh my,” laughed Haruka. “With you all dolled up serving tea I imagine we'll be seeing an uptick in temple-goers for quite a while.” 

“You're an old flatterer. You know Doumeki is more the type to have people flocking to see his face. That's the way it always was in school,” Watanuki shrugged on the yellow kimono with its swallow pattern, enjoying the weight on his skin; it felt like armor. A dark saffron sash with a hexagon pattern woven into it went about his waist tied into a proper knot scrutinized by Haruka. The only modern concessions to the ensemble was a dark checked collar and a charcoal cotton scarf. 

A quick glance in the mirror reassured him that nothing was crooked or out of place when he noticed how the golden-yellow palette warmed up his complexion and intensified the effect of his heterochromia. The honey hue of the shared eye seemed to glow and the blue-gray of the other eye even deeper than usual. 

“A word of warning: if you smile like that you may in fact run out of tea today,” said Haruka. 

As if that would happen! 

A scant few hours later proved Haruka right. The temple seemed to have no end of devotees and they were in no rush to leave. The matcha ran out around noon and Watanuki had to switch to serving a lighter green tea with the sweet bean cakes. If not for the incense in the air and the brisk sales of charms he could almost pretend he was working as a waiter at a school cultural fair cafe. 

“I deeply apologize for the lack of matcha, dear visitors,” he demurred shyly. “I hope this substitute will be adequate.”

“Mr. Watanuki, was it?” one of the local housewives, Keiko if his memory served, smiled at him. “We are grateful for all your hospitality. It is hard to imagine the temple without you now.” 

More than one of Yuuko's guests had flirted with Watanuki and Haruka was none-too-subtle, but this sincere praise gratified something in him more substantial than vanity.

“Y-you're too kind, ma'am.” Unlike a certain ghostly grandfather he could name these visitors were polite enough not to point out the blush coloring his face. 

He couldn't deny there was a rightness to his current life. Watanuki fit at the temple as though it were waiting for him. No sense of unease dogged him, no awkward sensation of being out of place because there was room for him. Room not just for who he was, but for who he could be. 

“It's a shame we couldn't announce to everyone Shizuka bringing home his bride,” Haruka lamented suddenly appearing at his side. “Oh how they'd bring food and gifts and we'd make merry. But they're doing pretty good on their own. How many boxes of treats have appeared at the temple in the last fortnight? A dozen?” 

True the neighborhood had welcomed him with open arms. Watanuki was grateful he wasn't a girl. This attention was already too much. He couldn't fathom how much worse it would be if he was Shizuka's new bride in both law and spirit. 

On his way back to the kitchen Watanuki was suddenly struck by a horrible thought. What if he had misread Doumeki's feelings all along? Or what if they had changed? What if one day Doumeki brought home a pretty girl and married her? Nichika and Mayumi didn't seem the type to kick him out, but could he really stay in such a situation? On the other hand what entitled him to any feelings on that front? They weren't lovers despite the shared eye, Doumeki's many sacrifices, and shared experiences. If anything Watanuki pushed Doumeki away when things got too intimate. He didn't have a right to object if Doumeki found a lover. Just as Doumeki wouldn't be able to object if Watanuki took a lover. 

Only both ideas made him sick to his stomach. Yet neither did he have the courage to broach the topic of feelings and intimacy with Doumeki. How would that even go? What did people usually say in those situations? 

“Are you ill, Kimihiro?” Mayumi asked taking the tray from him. “You look as though you could do with a break. I'll take the tea out while you rest.” 

“I'm perfectly fine, ma'am, er Aunt Mayumi.”

“Nonsense. You have a snack and a lie-down. I can handle our guests.” Her kind brown eyes gazed at him with maternal warmth. He thought briefly of Yuuko and the mother he never knew and had to acquiesce.

**Author's Note:**

> Poem quoted is from the Japanese classic 'Hyakunin-Isshu' (100 Poems by 100 Poets) and is poem #30 written by Nibu no Tadamine. Translation from [here](http://sacred-texts.com/shi/hvj/hvj031.htm).
> 
> -
> 
> Feel free to follow me or send a message at juniperstreet.tumblr.com!


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